“You’re so wet,” he said. He stroked himself staring at her hole. When he was hard, he approached her and with no foreplay, plunged himself into her. She gasped as he filled her. He held her, pinned, his hands clutched around her hips, not moving. She wondered for a moment if he’d come already. She stared into his eyes, and they stared back, a glare like a vulture’s, cold and hard. He pulled out of her and pushed back in, his cock even harder, as he fucked her. He grabbed her by her ropey thighs, bringing her back and forth against him. Her breasts weighed a million pounds bobbing on the ropes. She wondered if they would burst.
He leaned his head back as he pulled on her ropes, bucking into her again and again. She looked up at the ceiling. At the darkness, the flickers of the candles, of forms shifting and floating. She blinked. A pair of red eyes stared at her from the chandelier and she thought she saw the flick of a golden speared tail. She blinked again and the eyes were gone. Henry was grabbing her breasts, stroking her body, working himself into a frenzy. She moaned as he thrust into her, rocking to his rhythm.
Henry looked into Cora’s eyes and she looked into his. His blue eyes were still predatory even as she came on his cock. He met her spasms with his thrusts and slowed to catch his breath. She twitched as every nerve was on fire. And closed her eyes for a moment. Her mind was red, red as the demon’s eyes.
Henry gathered up his strength again and fucked her quickly. He shouted and trembled as if he himself were being flogged to fuck her faster, clutching her hips, harder, faster. He stiffened and with a painful groan he pulled out of her and held his cock up as it shot all over her breasts. It seemed like he would never stop coming and his cries turned to laughter. She smiled at him and closed her eyes. His laugh mingled with the demon’s in her mind. She shook her head from side to side.
When she woke, she was in a room with red velvet swirling wallpaper that made her dizzy just to look at it. She lay in a queen-sized four pillared mahogany bed covered in light cotton sheets and a thick cotton comforter. Her body ached. Above her she saw a mirror, her own reflection staring down.
“Good morning.” She smiled as she rubbed her arms. The bruises at her wrists throbbed beneath her fingers. As she stood, she noticed her body covered with bruises and welts. She looked in the mirror and relished the sight. She was like a tiger, red-striped and pale skinned.
She turned to look out the window, and pushed the drapes aside. There was only more of the swirling red velvet wallpaper. As she pulled away the other set of curtains, she found a wall there as well.
She ran over to the bedroom door. It was locked.
Her heart beat wildly but she reasoned that the cell-like accommodations were buried in the contract.
A penny gleamed on the thick red and gold patterned rug in the middle of the room. As she plucked it from the floor, the room shifted. The floorboards weakened beneath her feet and she sank down. Panicked she ran across the room as it tilted, tipping her towards the gaping hole.
She fell into blackness, turning over herself head to heels so quickly that she had no time to grasp on to anything.
As she tumbled, she reached out her arms, hoping her fingers could catch on to the sides. The hole was vast and deep, the air growing hot and humid the farther down she fell.
She landed with a thump on some cushions. Lit torches were mounted high on the walls. She stared up at them. They were immense, holding even higher flames.
The cushions she lay on weren’t cushions at all. They undulated beneath her and she realized the entire floor was covered in snakes. Torches at the far end of the room were being lit and a voodoo queen danced into sight, wearing snakes.
They were draped over her body, their flickering tongues glinting in the torch flames. A soft rhythmic drumming began as naked men with drums entered the room and seated themselves among the snakes. The queen danced. The drummers drummed. More voodoo queens entered, singing a low song, their foreign words punctuated with wails and screams.
Cora dragged herself along the snakes, revulsion making her gasp, her actions seemingly unnoticed by the others. The snakes undulated faster, hypnotised by the music.
The drumming picked up.
She crawled along, shouting as a snake coiled around her wrist, tugging her down into the nest. She used her feet and hit its nose to get it to finally release her.
As she rolled closer, the drumming changed beat and intensity. The snakes calmed.
The winged man appeared, swooping down among the drummers and dancers, towering over them, his wings spanning nearly the width of the room.
Cora looked at him and he spotted her. He swooped towards her and before she could cringe, he cradled her in his arms as they flew up and up.
She woke up in the room. The sinkhole was gone. The curtains still covered the fake windows. The welts and bruises still on her body. She noticed the bedframe was compromised of dozens of winged men entwined into each other, each chiselled and manly, engorged genitals and bulging arms.
There was a knock on the door and Master entered carrying a tray of food. He wore a smoking jacket that barely concealed black leather shorts with a removal codpiece.
She sat up in bed, eager for her breakfast.
He gently set the tray on the floor by the door.
“It’s time for you to eat,” he said. He produced a crop from his belt where handcuffs dangled and a strap hung by a D ring.
“I—”
“How do you address me?”
“Yes, Master,” she said and threw back the covers. She held her hands to her stomach. “I need to go to the bathroom, Master. May I go?”
“You may,” he said. She slid her feet along the bed until they made contact with the floor. Her bladder was heavy and she wondered if she’d even make it to the toilet. As she went to the master bedroom bathroom he followed her in. She was about to sit down when she looked up at him.
“Are you going to watch, Master?” she asked.
“It’s in the contract,” he said.
“Right.” She sat down and tried not to look at him. She wasn’t used to being watched during her morning pee. She wasn’t sure if she ever had been.
“Right, what?” he asked.
“Right, Master.”
At last, the pee pressure was too much for her shy kidneys and she was able to finally get some relief. As she wiped, and flushed, he watched her carefully.
“Now shower,” he said.
“Now? Master?” she asked.
“Yes.” Her stomach growled. “I haven’t even had coffee yet.”
The flogger was hard against her ass.
“Now,” he said. She stepped into the shower, and soon enjoyed the hot water pounding against her from several waterspouts, the beating against her wounds reminding her of the amazing sensations the crop and ropes had brought her. Outside the glass door, her master watched. She soaped herself up, paying close attention to her breasts, turning so that he could watch. She ran her lathered fingers along her stomach and down between her legs. Finally, with the handheld shower spray, she rinsed away the soap.
When she was finished Master held a towel out for her as she stepped from the shower stall.
She wrapped herself in the warm terrycloth, and his arms. For a moment she enjoyed his warm embrace, catching sight of herself in the mirror. His face looked down at her with firm determination, while hers was fresh-faced and curious.
He broke the embrace and took the towel from her.
“Stand still,” he said as he briskly wiped her dry.
In the kitchen there were several bowls on the floor. Master cracked the whip.
“Get down like a good dog,” he commanded.
Cora sank to her hands and knees.
“Sit,” Master said. Cora sat.
“Beg,” Master said. Cora begged.
“Lie down,” Master said,
and Cora lay down.
“I’ve heard you like to have coffee in the morning. And coffee you shall have,” Master said as he poured coffee into one of the bowls on the floor.
“Go drink,” he said. Cora crawled over to the bowl. As she slurped up her black coffee she heard Master snapping off his codpiece.
“Drink that coffee, you little bitch,” he moaned as one of his hands stroked her ass. “Such a lovely round mound,” he said, his other hand stroking himself.
He slipped his hand down the curve of her ass and between her folds. She gasped as his finger immediately stroked her clit. She hitched in her breath, the coffee burning the inside of her nose for a moment.
“Keep drinking,” he said, suddenly plunging his fingers inside her. She spread her legs wider, enjoying the firm pressure of his thumb on her clit while he fingered her. She slurped up the rest of the coffee, using her hands to pick up the bowl to drain the last drops.
“Now the strawberries,” he commanded, fingering her faster. She was slippery with juices from her mouth to her pussy as she buried her face in the bowl of sliced strawberries.
When she had eaten a few, he withdrew his hand and replaced it with his cock. He fucked her hard and fast and pulled her hip with one hand, tugging her hair with the other. She let him plow her, rising to meet him as best she could, her body trembling with pleasure. His thrusts were hard and quick, rough and becoming painful. She put her hand over the hand that held her hip, pushing him back, but he only pulled her to him tighter. He was deep inside her, the angle hitting her G-spot. She cried out, pleasure rushing through her. He kept fucking her as she came, causing her to come again.
He pulled out and turned her around. He watched her face as he came on it. His mouth in a sneer, his hands pulling his cock, squeezing out every last drop onto her smooth cheeks, and open mouth.
He turned from her, scooped his codpiece from the floor, and as he fastened it, told her, “You haven’t finished your coffee.”
She crawled over to the water bowl and lapped it dry. At the bottom of the bowl there was a penny.
“Eat it,” her master commanded. She turned to him, puzzled.
“You are one with the penny when the penny is one with you.”
She reached into the dish for the penny. The flogger was strong against her ass. She flinched, the pain melding in with the aches from the previous sessions.
“Drop it,” Master commanded. She let go of the penny and it fell back into the bowl.
“With your lips, your teeth, you know you can do it,” he coaxed, the flogger striking her again. This time he let the strands linger on her ass as he pushed her down by her neck.
“Lick it up, dog,” he said. As he held her down, she looked over the bowl and saw, in the corner, the demon. He nodded, red eyes gleaming. She stared at him. He pointed at the penny and nodded again. He crossed his arms over his magnificent bronze chest, his wings folded behind him. She wondered if Master had seen him.
She licked the bowl, attempting to flip the coin into her mouth. The tip of the tongue, the teeth, the lips, she thought, scraping and nudging the penny until at last, success. She held it on her tongue to show her master.
“Now swallow it,” he commanded.
She widened her eyes, her tongue still out with the coin perched on it like a treat. He stared at her until she closed her mouth.
“I’m watching,” he said.
“But...” she whispered, fearing to dislodge the penny.
“No buts. It’s done. Swallow.”
She stayed kneeling.
“You are the penny, the penny is you,” he whispered, his eyes growing wide.
At last, she swallowed the penny. A coppery taste that slid endlessly down her throat. She was certain she could trace every stop it made along her digestive system.
She stuck out her tongue to him.
He nodded. “Good work.”
She looked over to where the demon still stood. A sly grin curved his mouth into a smile that revealed long pointed teeth. A chill went through her. What had she done?
One last smack on her ass jolted her back to reality.
Master clicked his flogger back into his belt and left.
His exit was so quick that she was still kneeling. The demon was gone too. She rubbed her hands along her face, smearing his come down her neck, her breasts, and rubbing it along her stomach. Her pussy still throbbed, still ached for more, and she fingered herself on the floor until she came again.
When she was satisfied, she stood up slowly. Her body ached but ringed with pleasure at the same time. She took her second shower of the day and rummaged through the drawers and closet until she pulled together an outfit.
Master took Cora to the mall, equipped with electrodes on her nipples and pussy. There was a vibrator up her pussy, a plug up her ass. Master had full control of the devices as she tried to shop.
The voltage was at peak height, she was certain of it. Her nipples ached, painfully throbbing with each burst of the electricity as he played with the knobs. She carried all of the shopping bags from his endless purchases and her feet were tired.
He pushed the button for her clit. She stopped in her tracks, the jolt taking her by pleasant surprise.
“Oh,” she gasped. “I think…”
She hung on to a counter for a moment, bent over as if in pain but in reality laughing harder than she’d ever laughed in her life. She skipped from foot to foot as he stood beside her. To others, he looked like he was checking the time on his watch, when the reality was, he controlled how much stimulus she was getting onto her lady parts.
A crooked grin crossed his face as he noticed a male shopper had stopped and was now sitting on a bench across the mall waterfall from them. As Master playee dials of Cora’s orgasm, the man behind the fountain was touching himself.
Master grinned as he noticed that the lone man wasn’t the only shopper reluctantly turned on by her guttural moans. Women noticed as well, stealing careful glances, sly grins touching a face or two.
At last Cora was spent and Master turned down the frequency as they wandered off again.
Along the sidewalk, she spied a penny. Before she knew what she was doing, she scooped it up.
Master saw her.
“Another one.” Master smiled.
“Yes, I find them a lot,” she said as she put it into her cleavage. He grinned.
“Are you enjoying your outing?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Once back at the house, he removed her devices.
“You may go rest for a few hours. I’m sure you’re tired.”
“I am.”
“The staff will ring you for dinner.”
He left her room and she went into the bathroom. As soon as she had stripped away her clothes, the penny fell out.
She held it up.
She studied it, shining between her fingers.
You are the penny, the penny is you.
She took the razor from the shower ledge and slit a small line along her arm. She tucked the penny into the wound, wincing as she pushed. Once in, the outline of the penny was raised through her skin.
She took a shower and went to bed.
Three lady servants wearing Gothic maid uniforms woke her, quickly washed her, and zipped her into a red chiffon evening gown with a corset halter top that barely covered her ample breasts, the colour matching her hair exactly.
The servants worked quickly, combing out her hair, applying makeup, false lashes, pressing on fake red nails, and fastening a diamond dog collar around her neck.
As Cora was led into the dining room, she saw twelve masked people wearing very elaborate Gothic clothing seated around the table. Men and women were barely distinguishable among an array of feathers, masks, velvet and ruffles.
Th
e servant led her to her spot on the left hand side of Master. She sat, still staring at the silent masks watching her.
“A toast to the lady of the hour,” Master said, lifting his glass. The server dressed in Gothic maid attire filled her glass with red wine. The other twelve guests toasted her and sipped through straws.
Dinner was light, a soup, some rice, a bit of seasoned meat, several oysters, spicy olives and a light lemon sorbet for dessert. She attempted to sneak a peek under the masks when they were discreetly lifted enough to pop in an olive or the skewer of meat into a mouth. She was able to determine that there were mostly men, although she wasn’t certain.
After dinner, absinthe was brought out as light classical music tinkled in the background.
There was little talk except the occasional “thank you” and “delicious” as the after-dinner absinthe was sipped. Cora stared at them, their hollow eyes staring back. She was warm. The candles flicked wildly. The servants cleared the table, the clinks and clacks sharp staccatos that punctuated the liquid buzz of the absinthe.
The masked ones left the room one by one and returned. She imagined they were using the restroom. She decided to do the same. When she returned, all was darkness except for the candles. A pair of hands roughly grabbed her. Another clamped her mouth. More tore off her dress, unlaced her corset and her collar.
She was tied up spread eagle to the end of the table, her head encased into a box. She was bound so tight she couldn’t move, and the box only had a circular hole above her mouth.
She gasped as hands squeezed her nipples, which protruded from breasts that had lengths of rope wrapped around them until they stood out even bigger. Other hands pulled at her labia, tickled her clit. She squirmed as clothespins were pinched on to her labia, both sides creating a fan. Lashes of a crop sliced her stomach and nipples. Clamps were added, and more clothespins until she resembled some kind of porcupine.
The clothespins and clamps were removed, her body throbbing and stinging in memory from the pinches, her nerves tingling towards that amazing space she had so recently experienced. She yearned for more.
One by one, she was fucked by each and every person at the party. At first it had been glorious, cock after cock ramming into her, but she grew tired from coming and tired from exuberance as each cock had been eagerly awaiting its turn. Cocks were shoved through the hole in the box and she did her best to suck them as thirst began to take over.
A Penny Saved Page 5